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Site title: The Misfit Farmer - agrarian misadventures, feats of agricultural exaggeration, plus lessons from a hard-knocking tractor
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If you ever see a black and white cat on the run, do not approach or engage the animal. It could be Barney, our barn cat, and he should be presumed dangerous. He goes by many aliases: Barn, Barn-Man, Barn-Barn, Barn Master, Little Barney Boy, and Sweet Little Barn Muffin.
Barney first came to us at about the sam...
On the Tuesday before the storm, I called my wife to begin the necessary bureaucratic process. We make each other jump through hoops to justify big purchases, if for no other reason than one of us–usually her–can say “I told you so” once the purchase proves imprudent.
“I think we need to buy a generator,” I said...
Last week, I had to set up a booth at a farming conference. It was my first time in a den of vice–well, technically, my second. The day before, I had gone to the wrong den of vice, thinking it was the right den of vice.
“I’m here to check in for the conference,” I said. “My name is Stephen Bishop.”
“Conference?” the front desk clerk asked. “I don’t t...
I’m not sure exactly at which meeting the idea was hatched, but I know who hatched it: Myron.
I first met Myron years ago at an Ag Advisory Board meeting. Our county has a Farmland Preservation Ordinance, which is mostly a feel-good ordinance meant to recognize farms in the county, but the ordinance also created a seven member Ag Advisory Board whose purpose is to a...
“I bet you can’t run over Dad,” my wife said, sacrificing me.
Earlier in the day, we had taken Thomas to the park to practice riding his bike. It was a beautiful winter day, warm enough that you didn’t need a coat, and since school was out for Christmas break, the park was full of moral support.
“You’ve got this!” said a man walking his dog, as we pleade...